Just another black man
Just another black body
Just another black tomb
A bullet pushes itself
Through a skull
Pops out the other side
And skids
Along the asphalt
The gun is still in
His hand,
He can’t release it now,
He will forever
Have a clenched fist
A ball of fury
A chamber of memories
A prison inside the palm
Shackled to the ground
They don’t even have
To snap on the cuffs
He’s somewhere else
But that doesn’t matter
Just another black body
Black bag
Black tomb.